


wishing

by the-dreaming-hare (iexisttolive)



Category: Twilight Series - Stephenie Meyer
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, F/F, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-04
Updated: 2014-10-04
Packaged: 2018-02-19 21:04:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 817
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2402828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iexisttolive/pseuds/the-dreaming-hare
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Three times Isabella Swan noticed Leah Clearwater, and Leah's thoughts on the matter.</p>
            </blockquote>





	wishing

i.

Leah Clearwater was beautiful.

It was a shockingly easy thing to notice, and Bella couldn’t help but stare. As they ate surrounded by family and friends, her gaze remained stuck on Leah. Her hands - jabbing the air around her as she spoke animatedly. Her eyes – dark depths glistening beneath luxurious lashes, hiding thoughts that seemed all too interesting. Her hair – individual strands catching the light and reflecting blue-black as she tilted her head.

She was so alive, the flash of white teeth against dark skin startling in its abruptness as she threw back her head and laughed.

Bella wondered what people saw when they looked at her.

Not a beauty like Leah – she was bruising shadows over brittle bones, and for the first time since he left, she felt ashamed.

She felt something stir deep within her.

_She too wanted to be alive._

* * *

ii. 

Leah Clearwater was beautiful.

It was still so easy to notice – perhaps easier now that she was surrounded once more by a beauty that was cold and unforgiving in its perfection. She was still straw-like hair and bird-like limbs, but Leah was grace, and strength, and sadness.

Her eyes were fixed to the flames of the bonfire, its warmth throwing her into sharp relief. The planes of her faces bathed in the light were like a beacon, and Bella wondered if she was the only one who saw – the only one who cared to see the single tear as it trailed down her cheek.

Her eyes closed, and Bella wished that she was strong enough to defy the expectations she had of herself. Wished that she could go back and stop herself – go back and live the life of a normal teenage girl. Get up and walk around the fire to settle beside Leah and tell her that one day all would be well.

Instead, she stayed in the circle of Jacob’s arms. Instead, she went back to the immortals who did not love her enough to change her, but whom she loved just enough to cling to. In a sense, it felt safer, the way they remained unchanging and everlasting.

As she looked at Leah, Bella wished for the strength of will to grow.

The strength of will to change.

 

* * *

 

iii.

Leah Clearwater was beautiful.

And perhaps now it made more sense. But still Bella couldn’t bring herself to attribute her grace and strength to the wolf that was before her. Dwarfed among her companions, Leah was still too _human_. They all were, with their goofy grins and shared glances. Too malleable to be called immortals, they understood the pains of illness, the loss of death.

Bella understood better now – her tear had been a testament to those who saw only sons when their daughter was sitting silently among them. A legacy that was asked for by none. Still, she persevered in a way that was truly mortal. With bitterness and vengefulness and a wish for those who had passed over her to suffer the way she had.

Her beauty only increased in Bella’s eyes.

Bella once more wished she could say _no this is too much, please – please leave and never return._ But she seemed to be stuck in this hole of her own making, clawing at the earth and wondering if anyone knew, if anyone could see what the acceptance of immortality had cost her, was still costing her. Wondered if anyone would help her if they could see – because hadn’t she been a naïve little fool, but now it was too late and nothing short of teeth in her neck could save her.

As she watched them, wolves and vampires, she wondered when her life had become reduced to letting someone else save her.

When had she stopped being the hero of her own story?

* * *

iv. 

Isabella Swan was not beautiful.

She was too thin. Too shy. Too willing to let others control her life.

Leah often felt Bella’s eyes on her, and would feel the heat rise under her skin – a discomfort that came from wanting to know what the other girl thought of her.

Leah despised her for it. Too afraid to break away from her leeches, it was obviously killing her. Still, she stayed with them – a sick parody of loyalty that must have been born of obligation and obsession.

She would catch sight of Bella’s shaking hands or tense back and wish that someone would tell the girl that it was okay to end things with the bloodsuckers – they wouldn’t think less of her, they would think more.

Humans were not meant to live among monsters, and Leah wondered what it said about her that she was one. Playing young woman living among men when she could easily rip out their throats. She wondered at Bella and her sense of mortality – was it really so easy to throw away?

 

* * *

 

v.

Their eyes finally met. 


End file.
